Watching James Potter
by scared of clouds
Summary: It's odd. She doesn't know when she started watching James Potter, but one thing Lily Evans is sure of - she can't stop now she's started. L/J One shot, second person perspective. Cover art by burge-bug.


**A/N: This is a total self-indulgence. It got into my head and I spent an hour splurging it out, so I figured I may as well share it. Maybe some of you will like it. I kind of do. **

**(J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L)**

You're watching him again.

You know you shouldn't. It's _never _a good idea to look at him. It does strange things to your insides, and it makes your mind foggy.

But you can't help it. There's just something about him that draws your eye. In classes. In the common room. In the Great Hall.

It's not just you. Lots of girls look at him. It's hardly surprising; he's like…gravity. He pulls you in, and once you're reeled in close enough, you can't ever escape again, whether you want to or not. You _orbit_ him. What you want – or think you want – doesn't ever enter into it anymore. Because it's impossible to look away from him.

And the thing is, _you_ are different to those other girls. Because those other girls may look at him, but you…you _watch _him.

You watch him when he's laughing. The way his eyes light up, flecks of gold burning in amongst all that bright hazel. The way the corners of his eyes and mouth crinkle, because when he laughs it's a _real_ laugh, and you know that when he's older he's going to have laughter lines there, because James Potter laughs so much it's bound to leave its mark.

You go down to the Quidditch pitch to watch him when he's flying; you go with your friends so you have an excuse to be there, so you don't have to admit that you're there to watch him. But you_ are_ watching him, and you admire the ease with which he cuts through the air, and you see that light come into his eyes because he loves what he's doing, and he's _brilliant_ at it. You watch the almost lazy way he steers his broom, as if he doesn't even have to think about it any more, as if it's just an extension of himself. The way the wind ruffles that thick black hair, so it's even more of a messy mop than normal. You wonder what it would be like to twist your hands into it, what it would feel like between your fingers before you remind yourself that you don't _want _to touch it, that the way he runs his hands through it annoys you constantly.

Every now and again he joins you as you study in the library. He slouches in his chair as he flicks through his textbooks, and you watch him out of the corner of your eyes or from behind a curtain of your hair, though you pretend not to and you never let him know that you are. You watch the way he browses the shelves, his head tilted slightly to read the titles on the spines. The way he trails a finger along the shelf edge until it finds the book he wants, then he pulls it out by the spine and flips it open in one swift movement. You often think it's unfair for someone to be so effortlessly graceful, so incredibly comfortable in their own skin in a way that you've never quite been.

You watch him when he's with his friends. The way he almost doesn't need to speak to Sirius to know what he's thinking; the way he puts a reassuring hand on his arm whenever Sirius catches sight of his brother across the Great Hall. You watch him as he tries to make sure Peter is never left out, even when he can't really keep up with the others. You watch the way he protects Remus' secret, and the way he worries about him and tries to reassure him.

Sometimes he tutors some of the younger years in Transfiguration. You watch as he gently encourages them, as he makes the work fun, makes the magic come alive for them. They laugh at his jokes and they try harder for him, because there's something about James Potter that just makes people want to try harder; the thought of disappointing him is almost painful. You understand that; the idea that he might look at you and you might see disappointment behind those hazel eyes is more than you could bear.

You work on the Prefect's schedule together, and you watch the way his brows draw together as he focuses on what you're doing, as he tries so hard to get it right, to make sure that he's doing a good job. You know - he might never admit it out loud, but you know – it means a lot to him that Dumbledore had faith in him.

You patrol together, and you find your gaze drawn to him over and over, even when you're making a concerted effort _not _to watch him. It's easier on those nights to just talk to him; to ask him questions and listen to his deep voice answer earnestly. You know he's always honest with you when you talk like this; he might refuse to answer a question, but he'll never lie to you.

You see him disciplining other students sometimes; you watch him as his face hardens and that sparkle, that boundless energy and life that is just _so _James Potter, fades from his expression as he hands out detentions. He hates it, but he does it because it's his responsibility and he won't shirk it. Sometimes, though, you can see he's happy to be able to hand out punishments; when he hears the word 'Mudblood' thrown around, or when he sees a first year bullied for their blood status. He's never believed in blood purity.

You aren't sure when you first started watching him, but one thing you know for sure; you've been watching him long enough to see him changing before your eyes, long enough to see the overly clever, mischievous, irresponsible little boy become the intelligent, mature and thoughtful person that you don't want to _stop_ watching.

And the thing is, he watches you too. But he doesn't hide it. His eyes find you when you walk into a room, and you can feel them still on you when you leave it again. At mealtimes he slides into the seat opposite you, and he gives you that smile that makes the corners of your lips twitch no matter what mood you're in. He finds you when you're upset; he doesn't have to go looking because he always knows where you'll be.

One day, you know, you're going to have to stop watching each other. You wonder how that will go. Maybe it will be sudden; maybe you'll watch each other right up till the day you leave Hogwarts and then go your separate ways. Or will it be gradual? Just a fading of interest from one, or even both of you. Maybe one of you will eventually start watching someone else. You can't imagine that it would be you; it's unthinkable that anyone else could attract your attention like he can. You know, deep down, that you will never stop watching him; if anyone ends the strange game you've been playing with each other for so long, it'll be him.

Or maybe, just maybe, one day you'll do more than look. Maybe one day you'll tell him. Tell him that you look at him because you can't imagine not looking at him. That you watch everything he does because everything he does is fascinating.

Maybe one day. When watching him isn't enough any more.

**(J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L) (J&L)**

**A/N: Like it? Hate it? Let me know! It's my first attempt at second person perspective, so I'm not totally confident in it and I'd love some feedback. **

**Love you all, thank you so much for reading.**

**PS: I've recently written a companion piece for this, called Loving Lily Evans if anyone is interested.**


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